


Valhalla, I am Coming

by Ophelia_L



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, character death but i promise it gets happy, do valkyries go to valhalla when they die?, is her girlfriend right?, so it's practically canon, that the valkyrie who took the blade for brunnhilde, they do now oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 21:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12802752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_L/pseuds/Ophelia_L
Summary: After she leaves Sakaar, Brunnhilde finds solace in her new team. But it's never quite what she had before.





	Valhalla, I am Coming

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a conversation between my pal Lyndsey and I on twitter that was mostly just talking about possible names for the valkyries. angst happened, as it does, and this was the result.

When Hela is flattened under the rubble of Asgard, Brunnhilde thinks she’ll feel some sense of relief.

Some kind of…justice. For Herja, and the rest of her fallen sisters.

But there’s just… finality. Hela is gone, but it won’t bring Herja back to her.

There is kinship, though- a connection that she hasn’t felt since the days when the Valkyrior flew. A feeling dulled by centuries of drink and service to the Grandmaster. It fills the hole that seems to have consumed her whole being. Thor isn’t quite a Valkyrie, but his spirit and drive and loyalty to his friends is more than admirable.

She boards the massive ship with the rest of her allies and as the displaced Asgardians stare in awe, shock, and fear, she is reminded of the souls she used to escort to Valhalla.

Fallen warriors who didn’t know what came next.

What comes next is years of fighting at the side of Thor and Loki, defending the Nine Realms from the Mad Titan Thanos and others who would do it harm. She meets the warriors who defend Midgard, old allies of Thor and more that Thor has not met.

She finds that souls have found their way to Valhalla without the aid of the Valkyrior, but when she is helping the Vanir repel an invasion of undead and a warrior falls, the old instinct kicks in and Brunnhilde brings the soul to the gates of Valhalla.

Oddly enough, she’s only ever seen the gates. They’re massive and golden, and though there’s no actual wall on either side, the gates are the only way in. As someone who’s still living, she can’t go inside, so she always takes an extra moment to gaze at the golden arches and imagine the splendor that exists within.

She longs to throw open the gates and scream out Herja’s name, race through the gilded halls until she finds the other half of her soul and take her in her arms.

But she can’t.

So she keeps fighting. She fights battles for those who can’t.

She tries to love again, but her heart belongs to one who cannot return it.

She resigns herself to this new life. She can live among friends, with this kinship that is so like what she had.

 

And then she dies.

It’s not how she expected to go, to be quite honest. She thought it would be during another battle of the ages, but it’s just a battle in Nidavellir. She and Thor are assisting the dwarves with an invasion of dark elves.

She gets caught up in the battle and drops her rear guard for just a moment.

In that moment she feels the icy elfin steel slide between her ribs and lodge below her lungs.

It’s a fatal wound, and she knows it. It’s useless to try and pretend otherwise.

Thor downs a dozen elves with a crackle of lightning and rushes to her side, tries to cover the wound, but Brunnhilde stops his hands with her own shaking ones.

He is speechless, but she chokes out a few words. She doesn’t remember where she heard them, but they resonate in her mind through the deep, cold pain.

“To f-fight the horde, and s-sing and cry- V-Valhalla, I am coming…”

She squeezes Thor’s hand and a smile tugs at her lips.

 

There are moments between life and death, when the soul leaves the body and melts into another plane of existence. She knows that. It is the crucial time when a heroic soul must be collected; otherwise they are destined for Niflheim for eternity. Not a punishment, but not what is deserved.

It is in these moments that she feels doubt.

Perhaps she is not worthy of Valhalla. She spent centuries at the Grandmaster’s side- if her deeds even out, maybe she’ll end up in Niflheim.

Do Valkyries even go to Valhalla? What if their souls are…different? What if-

“Min kjære?”

She has not heard those words in centuries.

“Brunn, come to me.”

Brunnhilde finds that she can open her eyes again.

A face framed with blonde braids is looking down at her. Blue eyes and soft lips that she still remembers the feeling of on her own.

“Herja?” She does not dare believe it, but Herja’s hands are warm and solid and soft and real. Herja leads Brunn to her feet and the two embrace, hands clutching and heads nestled into shoulders.

The faint smell of lavender fills Brunn’s nose as she presses it into Herja’s thick blonde hair.

“How?” is all Brunn can manage through the choking tears that are already pooling in her eyes.

“It’s our job to take heroic souls to Valhalla,” Herja says with a smile. “That’s you.” She pulls out of the hug, but keeps Brunnhilde in her arms and presses her forehead against Brunn’s. Brunn can see every freckle that paints her cheeks like a galaxy; can feel Herja’s warm breath on her skin.

“All this time…” Brunn murmurs. She takes Herja’s face in her hands, tracing her thumb along Herja’s cheek. “How did you stand it?”

Herja weaves her hands in Brunn’s hair and pulls her in, pressing their lips together.

Brunnhilde has seen impressive magic over the centuries, but nothing compares to their first kiss in over a thousand years. The battle fades away around them as their bodies press together. Arms lock around waists like they are keeping one another from being swept down a raging fjord.

When Brunnhilde feels Herja smile against her lips, she opens her eyes to see the golden gates of Valhalla in front of them. She lifts her head away from Herja to gaze at the gates, as if she is seeing them for the first time.

“That made the wait worth every moment,” Herja murmurs. She takes Brunn’s hand. “Come. Valhalla’s waiting for you.”


End file.
